Phanphic Phiasco
by ElfLover
Summary: Christine wanders down to Erik's home only to find him reading EC fanfiction! How will she react?
1. The Discovery

Christine tentatively pushed open the front door of Erik's underground home, expecting to be hit with a blast of loud (if exquisite) organ music. She was surprised (and a little disappointed) to walk into a silent house. Wondering if Erik was out frightening the ballet rats and had forgotten about her, she tiptoed across the main room to Erik's bedroom door, which was slightly ajar, and peeked in. Christine shivered as her glance fell upon the coffin behind its canopy. That was all she could see through the small crack, however, so she pushed the door open even further and stuck her head around the edge.

Erik was sitting comfortably at his organ. Before him, perched precariously on the instrument so as not to touch the keys, was a small black rectangular object that looked rather like an open book with glowing pages that had been turned on its side. Christine had never seen its like before. Erik seemed to be staring intently at it, but then she couldn't be sure, as he was wearing his mask. That was strange, too. He hadn't been wearing it around her recently. So why was he wearing it now?

She slipped quietly into the room, her feet padding softly on the rich carpet. Erik was so engrossed in whatever he was doing that he did not hear her. She came up behind him and squinted at the glowing face of the object. It _was_ a book! There were _words_ there. She read some. Her eyes widened. She read some more and let out a squeal of revulsion. Inevitably, the noise yanked Erik out of his trance and alerted him to her presence.

"_Christine!_" He slammed the laptop shut with a resounding click and stood, towering over her. "When did you get here? I wasn't expecting you for another hour!"

Christine stepped back, trembling. "Rehearsal ended early and I…I…" She trailed off as what she'd seen returned to her. "Erik, what…what…" She pointed a shaking finger at the black rectangle on the organ. "What _was_ that?"

"What was what, Christine?" Erik tried to stay calm. Perhaps she hadn't read much…perhaps this could still be salvaged…

"We were KISSING!" Christine burst out, her voice thick with shock and disgust. "I mean…the words _said_…we…I…"

Erik swore inwardly. "It was just…a story, Christine. Not real." But oh, how he wished it were!

"But _why_?" She was crying now, out of confusion and anger. "Who would write such things?" A bubble of suspicion formed and burst. "Did _you_ write it?"

"No!" came the indignant answer.

"Then where did it come from?" She was fully angry now, outraged that anyone would wish for such an awful scenario. Well, anyone besides Erik himself, of course.

Erik sighed heavily. "I think it would be best if you calmed yourself, Christine, and then we might discuss this in a…quieter manner. I promise, I can explain everything." He _hoped_ he could.

Christine sniffed, but she followed him out to the main room and sat down stiffly on the sofa. Erik sat in a chair opposite her. Silence reigned for a moment. Then Erik sighed again, and spoke.

He spoke of another world, a world called Fandom, populated by young girls with grand and fanciful imaginations. He claimed that in this other world, their lives, their stories, his and hers and the Opera's, were just that: stories. He told her of the many cult religions that the people of Fandom followed, one of which was the Erik/Christine pairing.

Christine stared at him. "There are people who think you and I…should…are…"

"Yes." And I fully support them, he added to himself.

"And some of these girls came to you and…and gave you that machine, and you were reading their religious propaganda?"

"…Yes."

She was silent for a moment. "Are there other 'pairings' in our…what was that word…'continuum'?"

Erik hesitated. He had come across a few Raoul/Christine stories while searching, and he had been none too pleased by them. He was not about to mention _those_ to her, however. So he settled for saying, "Perhaps, but I have not seen any."

They sat quietly together as she absorbed the information. Suddenly, she looked straight at him, and asked, "Can I read one?"


	2. The Emotion

Erik sat in his room, anxiously drumming his long fingers on the organ. He had lent Christine the laptop (after a short tutorial), and she had locked herself in her room with it. And now he was bored.

He wondered what she was doing. He pictured her sitting at the small writing desk in the Louis-Philippe room, reading stories about their wonderful life together with their beautiful children in their small cottage by the sea. He shivered happily to think of it, and he played a scale for joy.

Then he froze. But what if she detested the stories? He recalled the horror on her face when she read that first one. And that had only been a kiss! Dieu, what if she should come across a…_racy_ story?

He was just contemplating the possible consequences of such a situation when there was a soft knock on the door. A moment later, Christine slipped in. She was carrying the laptop carefully. "I've finished," she said quietly. He rose and took the laptop from her. "I really can't stay," she continued. "Mama Valerius is expecting me." She turned to go.

"Did you enjoy the stories?" The question burst out of him. He had to know.

She turned back. There was a slightly dreamy look on her face. "Oh. Yes, they were…interesting." She left.

As the front door closed, Erik collapsed onto the bench and began to laugh in relief and joy.

- - - - -

That night, Erik could not sleep.

He wanted to sing until his voice gave out. He wanted to go up to the roof and shout his victory to all Paris. He wanted to run out into the streets and tell every person he saw, "She loves me!"

Instead, he decided to see which stories she had read. It would be nice to know just what had changed her mind about him. As he turned on the laptop, Erik gave silent thanks to the two phans who had given it to him. Where they had been strange and slightly frightening, they now seemed like angels from Heaven. He opened the History and clicked on the first link.

It was a Raoul/Christine story.

His heart stopped. He clicked the next link. Another Raoul/Christine story. The next link. Another. And another. Of the twenty-three stories she had read, only two were Erik/Christine.

Erik wept.


End file.
